


our love is like water

by ElasticElla



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Divination, F/F, Fluff, witchcrushwednesday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 09:16:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13408119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: So when Luna sits across from her one morning, nonchalantly informing her that the stars say they’ll fall in love one day, Padma only blinks.“Pass the marmalade would you?”





	our love is like water

**Author's Note:**

> title from live's all over you

Padma had never given much attention to divination. It wasn’t because it was the one class Parvati’s grades had ever topped hers (it _wasn’t_ ), nor that it had long been taught by a fraud. In her opinion divination was best left to the professionals- true seers and centaurs- as mucking about visions of the future without a proper touch could only be nonsensical at best and outright harmful at worst. 

Her sister calls her bitter whenever she voices such thoughts though, so she doesn’t anymore. Not even when Parvati requests a strand of hair for one of her assignments. Padma’s in the middle of a long arithmancy equation, so she _might_ not give Parvati’s usual disclaimer the attention it deserves. (As though knowing ‘ _a frog is in your tea leaves: a mystery awaits you or er- Longbottom maybe?_ ’ was going to greatly influence her future.)

It’s why she doesn’t give Boot’s insistence that he had a prophetic dream about them at Hogsmaede any mind (he really _should_ have been a Gryffindor that one), nor Pansy’s simpering promise that she’d disgrace her family name by Yule. And as for those who can really know the future… well she likes to stay far away from them. (How Parvati enjoys trips to visit their Great All-Seeing Aunt Farida is beyond her.)

So when Luna sits across from her one morning, nonchalantly informing her that the stars say they’ll fall in love one day, Padma only blinks. 

“Pass the marmalade would you?” 

Luna does, her bright smile not diminishing a speck. Padma feels better at that, spreading orange over her toast. She and Luna are likely friendly acquaintances, though Padma’s never quite sure where she stands with the younger girl. Her mood doesn’t fluctuate like most other Ravenclaws- or even people- that Padma knows. 

“I’m visiting the forest’s children tonight.” 

Padma swallows, an image of Luna greeting young saplings in the middle of the Forbidden Forest. “Will you take them anything?” 

Luna’s eyes go wide, “Oh yes. Without presents I doubt they’d reveal themselves. Children are rather cunning.” 

“Uh huh,” Padma agrees, not sure _what_ exactly the forest’s children might be then. Thestrals and giant spiders come to mind next and Padma would certainly rather revise for future exams than visit potentially deadly creatures. (As there was only one decent year of DADA, and the subject is more practice than theory, Padma would rather not test herself with any real danger.)

Sue slides into the seat beside her, stuffing a bagel in her mouth. “Runninph -ate, needa cass.” 

Padma takes a deep sip of her tea, isn’t nearly awake enough for this. Her nose crinkles when Sue goes to talk again, displaying all of her speedy breakfast. 

Luna thankfully interrupts, causing Sue to finish chewing with her mouth closed. “Yes, it is time to go.” 

The rest of Padma’s appetite is long gone, and Sue chugs half a glass of pumpkin juice. 

“Ready for Babbling?” Padma asks, standing. 

Sue groans, “I _hate_ runes in the morning, I don’t know why you look so chipper. My brain isn’t online enough for her random questioning. Damn Morgana-style teaching.” 

Padma smirks as they head up to the sixth floor. Second stairway up, Luna leaves them, wandering down a hallway that doesn’t lead to her transfiguration class. 

“I thought you loved the Morganic Method. Isn’t it similar to one of the muggle teaching styles?”

Sue rolls her eyes, “Elementary schools don’t use the Socratic Method. And it doesn’t include drawing runes while debating.” 

“Can’t imagine why not.” 

Babbling’s class passes quickly, Padma actually does enjoy her style of teaching. It always keeps her on her toes, and Ancient Runes has been her favorite class since third year. The underpinnings of magical theory are positively fascinating, and she’s spent many an afternoon squirreled away in the library’s rune corner. 

The potions class that follows isn’t nearly as exciting. Potions reminds her of cooking, and neither ever struck her fancy even if she does passably. The theory behind it can be fascinating, but the actual implementation? She’d rather not. Too much can go disastrously wrong between a dash and a pinch of beetle eyes. (On multiple occasions Snape has refused to give an exact measurement to either ambiguous quantity.)

In History of Magic Padma reads up on how Veelas integrated into the larger magical society while Binns goes on again about goblin rebellions. She- and many of her fellow Ravenclaws- would respect Binns more if he presented a less biased version of the past, or at least covered a wider array of history. _Ghostory_ Cho had jokingly called the class once when she complained about his outdated source material in the common room. It doesn’t seem quite fair because there are so many ghosts, but then again, every ghost Padma’s talked to has been highly biased in their view of the world. She’s pretty sure that says something about the type of person who would linger on in this realm, refusing to move on to the next. 

Before Padma knows it she’s at the dinner table- she’s already had the day’s classes and lunch and done most of her homework. Only an essay for potions remains, and it isn’t due for another week anyways. She’d rather start it early Saturday morning and write it all out by dinner than work on it every night until then. Besides, the library is far quieter on a Saturday than any weeknight. 

Sue and Cho and Marietta are debating the sentience of transfigured animals, and the resulting ethical ramifications of experimentation on said animals versus true animals. Padma doesn’t really care for this evening’s discussion. She eats meat, it’s not as if that’s going to be changing any time soon. That does, morally speaking, seem to be generally worse for an animal than testing if it runs to cheese or turns pink after the right charm. 

Marietta and Sue both go to demonstrate spells at the same time, and they collide into a sickly yellow color. There’s a loud snap, the scent of overripe fruit, and then all the food along the Ravenclaw table turns to wriggling grubs. There’s a few shrieks, and the house elves fix the food fast enough. 

Padma’s appetite is already completely lost though, as she stands. “I’ll be off. Perhaps next time a show can wait until dessert has been finished?” 

Marietta blushes dark, and Sue shrugs saying, “Yeah sorry.” 

Her stomach is still turning when she leaves the Great Hall, deciding to go out for fresh air rather than up any stairs. Wandering along the lake Padma spots a bit of blonde by the forest, and suddenly remembering Luna’s earlier words, she walks over. 

Luna’s sitting on the edge of the forest, a circle of mushrooms around her. Whoever she’s greeting isn’t nearly as dangerous as she’d earlier fantastically imagined. The younger girl seems to be talking to no one, and Padma approaches slowly, less sure the nearer she gets. 

Luna suddenly turns around to her with a wide smile. “Join us. The faeries said you’d be coming.” 

“Oh good, I’d hate to be a surprise,” Padma says, stepping into the circle. 

Luna’s laugh is light as she stands, and the mushroom circle seems tighter than before. There’s only a breath between them, though Luna is not at all bothered, slipping her arms around her as though they casually touch all the time. Her mother’s words echo in the back of her head about not letting pureblooded boys get ahead of themselves, she still hasn’t corrected her about that. 

“The faeries are all around us. You must give them a gift.”

Padma bites her lip, thinking through her pockets and bag. “I have a licorice wand?” 

Luna giggles again, warm breath bathing her ear. “Don’t be silly, nothing with sugar or they’ll fall asleep.” 

“What did you give them?” Padma asks. 

“I made each faerie baby carrot earrings.” 

Padma exhales, the breath of a desperate laugh bellying it, “I don’t have anything like that I’m afraid.” 

Luna daintily shrugs, “You can tell them a story or a new truth, faeries love those. Or your name, but I think you’d rather like to keep yours.” 

“I would,” Padma agrees. She’s never been good at telling stories- reciting sure, but faeries wouldn’t want that. A new truth then. She’s a Ravenclaw, she can think of one easily enough. 

Subjective and true should be quickest, though that begs the question of what she doesn’t know about herself or the outside world that can be easily examined. Something she wouldn’t want to think about. Something that would doubtless be distracting and not fit into her neat ten year plan to succeed. 

Something like how very warm Luna’s hands on her shoulders are. 

Padma doesn’t know when she wrapped her own arms around Luna’s back, now feeling acutely aware of everywhere they touch. Luna’s patiently waiting for her to make a gift up for the faeries- and how did she know they’d be here anyways? There are plenty of mushroom circles on Hogwarts’ grounds, plenty of shiny objects to borrow indefinitely. Not to mention-

A new truth, she reminds herself, ears burning. There’s one, teasing the tip of her tongue, and she knows if she speaks it, there’s no going back. No more pretending to just not being interested in dating. No more studious and easily overlooked background Ravenclaw. No more settling with being content. 

Padma opens her mouth, the sparkling silver faerie magic erupting all around her. For a brief delirious second she wonders if faeries have the Sight, if they _know_ already. 

“I would like to kiss you.” 

Luna almost looks confused, an almost refreshing swap of things were it any other time. “Odd. The stars usually tell me things long before they happen.” 

Vulnerability strikes fast, and looking around a dozen or so tiny faeries are circling them. Each of them is monochromatic and wearing the tiny carrot earrings, silver sparkles in their wake. There’s a red faerie, and a blue faerie, and a purple one and- no she certainly _isn’t_ distracting herself by recounting each of their colors. 

“You may,” Luna decides.

“Hmm?” Padma hums, and Luna leans up on her toes, kissing her. It feels like the first time she held her wand- or perhaps it’s all the faeries’ silver sparks getting to her. There’s far more of them now, enveloping her and Luna in a winking silver cylinder with thin streaks of fast moving color. 

If it weren’t for Luna’s warmth, Padma would be positive she’d been sucked into a dream.

.

A week later Parvati excitedly confesses that she’s the only one who got the true love’s prediction brew to work properly. Padma’s first thought is that it explains why Luna’s dream was late- but then, it really _doesn’t_. Wouldn’t any reliable form of divination take into account magical cause and effect? Padma’s curiosity brings her to the library, and for once another person is in her corner. 

Cuddling up with Luna might not make for the most expedient research, but it does make for the most enjoyable.


End file.
